The Cat Who Wasn't a Dog Read online

  ‘I heard that!’

  ‘Go on, darling.’ I couldn’t deny it. ‘I’m listening. What’s wrong with Jocasta? She hasn’t – ?’ That sudden fear for the children had not quite left me. ‘She hasn’t come down with some awful disease, has she? Something catching?’

  ‘No, no, nothing like that. It’s worse. She … she hasn’t any gas!’

  ‘Most cooks would be pleased about that.’ Evangeline just couldn’t keep her big mouth shut.

  ‘Please – ’

  ‘Not that kind of gas.’ Evangeline and Martha were both speaking so loudly that they had no trouble hearing each other. ‘The kind you heat your house with. And cook with.’

  ‘Oh-oh …’ It was becoming clearer now.

  ‘Exactly. We’re on a deadline and she’s testing all the recipes before we can use them. You know how casual theatre people are about exact amounts and precise directions.’

  ‘Not just theatre people.’ I came from a long line of by-guess-and-by-God cooks, who just kept adding ingredients, sometimes substituting, stirring and tasting until they had the results they wanted. Martha was the same, which was obviously why this Jocasta had been brought in as editor.

  ‘Anyway, there’s a big gas leak somewhere in her neighbourhood. The authorities have turned off the supplies while they try to trace it, then they’ll have to fix it – and heaven knows how long that will take. And we’re on a tight deadline. It’s all arranged to launch the book at the Lady Lemmings’ Autumn Bazaar. So we can’t afford to wait until we’ve collected all the recipes and then test them. We have to test them as we go along – and a good thing, too, Jocasta has already found several that sounded good but were complete disasters when she tried them.’

  ‘And now she can’t test anything that needs cooking because there’s no gas for her stove.’ I had caught up with Martha and, perhaps, was a little ahead of her.

  ‘That’s just it, Mother. Ordinarily, we could have just transferred operations to my kitchen, even though it might be a bit awkward with the housekeeper and the children in and out. But Hugh is involved in several new projects and he needs as much peace and quiet on the domestic front as I can provide for him.’

  ‘I quite agree, dear. And you were thinking …?’

  ‘You have that great big modern kitchen there …’ Martha paused and took a deep breath. ‘And you hardly ever use it – ’

  ‘I wouldn’t say that.’ Momentary indignation got the better of me, although I was basically sympathetic to Martha’s proposal.

  ‘I mean, you’re not there all the time. You eat out a lot. And Jocasta wouldn’t be in the way too much. I know all that adulation she has for Miss Sinclair is a bit tedious – but don’t worry, once she knows her better she’ll get over it.’

  Evangeline snorted.

  ‘And it will only be until the gas supply is restored at her place. And you have a full cupboard of spices and all those sauces and gourmet flavourings … You wouldn’t mind letting her use a bit of them, would you, Mother? For me? She can be over there in half an hour and she’ll leave any time it isn’t convenient for you.’

  ‘Actually, we’re going down to Brighton for a few days, anyway. Tell me, darling, does Jocasta have a car?’

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘Darling!’ I exchanged triumphant glances with Evangeline. ‘I think we can do a deal.’

  Chapter Eight

  ‘Cecile will be a gold mine for you.’ Shamelessly, Evangeline had thrown Dame Cecile to the slavering wolves. Or, in this case, the thrilled, quivering-with-anticipation Jocasta. ‘Just bring along your notebook. She’s overflowing with gourmet recipes, theatrical anecdotes and all sorts of culinary hints. All on her own, she’ll make your book a bestseller … . Just give me a hand with these cases, will you, dear?’

  The terraces of white wedding cake Regency houses curved along streets sloping gently towards the vast grey-blue expanse of the water below. Even though it was a grey day, the glistening white stucco brightened and cheered it.

  ‘Turn here,’ Evangeline directed and Jocasta swung the car into a street lined with larger houses, one of which looked familiar.

  While I concentrated on getting Cho-Cho’s carrier out of the car without jarring her too much, Evangeline soared up the steps to the front door, leaving Jocasta to struggle with the luggage all by herself. No surprise there.

  The door opened before we could ring the bell and Soroya stood glaring at us. Especially me.

  ‘About time you brought her back!’ She snatched at the carrier, sending Cho-Cho tumbling against the wires with an indignant squawk. ‘How dare you go off with my cat like that? I ought to report you to the police!’

  ‘Please, Soroya.’ Matilda’s weary voice came from behind. ‘I told you. I asked Trixie to take the cat out of the way until Cecile had time to calm down.’

  ‘I don’t know why you want to have her staying here. I should think you get enough of her at the theatre. It’s a rod for your own back.’

  Evangeline snorted. When it came to rods, Dame Cecile was the least of them.

  ‘Trixie and Evangeline are going to be staying here for a few days, too.’ There was a trace of relish in Matilda’s voice as she broke the news.

  Soroya opened her mouth, obviously to protest, but noticed the steely glint in Matilda’s eyes and shut it again.

  ‘I’ll just take the cat up to my room.’ She gave me a hostile look. ‘Where no one can get at it again.’

  ‘Please do,’ Matilda said. ‘And keep it out of Cecile’s sight. I don’t think she’s ready to cope with it yet.’

  ‘Still upset, is she?’ Evangeline asked heartlessly. After all, Fleur had been with Dame Cecile longer than any of her husbands had.

  ‘Playing it to the hilt.’ Matilda shrugged. ‘She’s taken to going out in the wee hours of the morning and wandering the streets in that black outfit. I wouldn’t mind, but she leaves the front door unlocked so that she can get back in. I’ve had to give her a key – and a good talking-to – but I’m not sure it’s worked. The door was on the latch again this morning when I got up.’

  Cho-Cho gave a piteous Meewrrr and cast me an anguished look as Soroya carried her up the stairs, tilting her cage again and buffeting her against the sides.

  ‘Be careful!’ I started forward, hands outstretched to steady the carrier.

  ‘Don’t tell me how to handle my cat!’ Soroya yanked it away, sending Cho-Cho sprawling sideways.

  Yeoowrr! This time Cho-Cho’s protest was louder and growing angry. She was not accustomed to this treatment – another reason to doubt Soroya’s claim that the cat was hers.

  ‘Do be quiet!’ Matilda looked nervously towards the top of the stairs. ‘You’ll disturb Cecile and she’ll have another fit if she sees that cat.’

  ‘Your friend Cecile did not return to the house until just before dawn this morning,’ Soroya informed her frostily. ‘She’ll sleep for hours yet. You’ll be lucky if she makes the rehearsal this afternoon.’ Soroya flounced up the stairs, jouncing Cho-Cho on every step.

  A loud thump at the front door startled us all. It sounded as though something had been thrown against it. Matilda crossed the hall swiftly and looked through the small window panel.

  ‘You have some luggage?’ she asked.

  ‘Good heavens, Jocasta!’ I rushed to open the door. ‘I’d forgotten all about her.’

  ‘She must be used to that,’ Evangeline murmured.

  ‘I’m so sorry, I stumbled,’ Jocasta gasped. ‘I hope it hasn’t scratched the paint.’ We both looked at the oversized suitcase leaning drunkenly against the door. Neither of us quite dared to look at the paint.

  ‘No, no, it’s all right,’ Matilda reassured her, then frowned uneasily. ‘Er … are you staying here, too?’

  ‘Oh, no. I just drove them down.’ Jocasta resumed her struggle with the cases, heaving them one by one into the hall. ‘I’ll be going back to London soon. But first, Miss Sinclair promised me that Dame Cecile …�
�� She looked around hopefully.

  ‘All in good time.’ Evangeline avoided her eyes. ‘Now, if you’ll just take these cases upstairs, Matilda will show you where to put them.’

  ‘Oh … yes … of course.’ Jocasta looked despairingly at the pile of luggage and the stairs.

  ‘I’ll take my own.’ I felt guilty about the grateful smile Jocasta gave me, my case was the smallest of the lot.

  ‘This way.’ Matilda gamely picked up the next-smallest of the remaining cases, staggering slightly under its weight. I thought I heard a muffled clank from it. I shot Evangeline a sharp look, but she still wasn’t meeting anyone’s eyes.

  ‘So kind …’ she said vaguely, drifting towards the drawing room with an abstracted air. ‘If you’ll excuse me … I’ll just …’ She wafted out of sight. ‘ … urgent telephone call …’

  The fact that it was true didn’t make me any less annoyed. I tightened my lips and hoped that Superintendent Thursby would not make it easy for her, then followed Matilda up the stairs and down the long hallway, wondering which door Cho-Cho had disappeared behind.

  ‘I thought you might like this room.’ Matilda swung open a door. ‘It’s small, but it has a sea view. Well, actually, it’s the English Channel, but it’s part of the sea.’

  ‘It’s lovely!’ It was a jewel box of a room. Small, yes, but light and airy, with a tiny white-painted wrought-iron balcony outside the window, flower-sprigged drapes and bedspread, even a curved recess holding display shelves built into one corner, the curved background painted a delicate shell pink. Fresh flowers stood in cut-glass vases on the dresser and the bedside table. The blue-grey stretch of water cresting the horizon outside was a bonus that would pay dividends on a sunny day.

  ‘Lovely …’ A wistful echo came from the doorway, where Jocasta looked longingly into the room.

  ‘Evangeline’s room is opposite, across the hall, you can see it if you come this way.’ Matilda threw open a door and apologized. ‘You’ll have to share a bathroom, I’m afraid. This establishment doesn’t run to separate en-suites.’

  ‘Why should it? It isn’t a hotel.’ I stepped into a spacious bathroom which had obviously once been another full-sized room connecting the two end-of-corridor rooms and was promptly lost in the nostalgia it evoked. It brought back memories of my first trip to Europe on one of the old liners. Back in the days when ‘Jet Set’ had been the newly minted description to denote the height of luxury and ocean liners were the old hat, bog standard way of travelling. In those days each third-class cabin had housed four passengers, two up and two down, so eight of us shared the bathroom between every two cabins and, sure as fate, someone always forgot to unlock the door to the opposite cabin when they had finished, so someone else was always hammering on the door, trying to make themselves heard in the cabin on the other side of the bathroom.

  ‘It’s all right, so long as you remember to unlatch the other door when you’re through,’ Matilda said, as though reading my mind. Or perhaps from long experience.

  ‘That won’t be a problem,’ I said truthfully. Evangeline was highly unlikely to even notice the latch on the opposite door and I wasn’t bothered, either. In fact, in view of the delicate negotiation we might be entering into to effect Eddie’s release, it would be quite convenient to be able to consult with each other without the rest of the household knowing.

  ‘Good.’ Matilda turned away briskly. ‘I’ll just see to a few other things, then. Cecile really ought to be stirring, if she wants to get to rehearsal on time.’

  ‘I won’t disturb you,’ Jocasta told me earnestly. ‘I’ll bring Miss Sinclair’s things in through the hall door. Why don’t you lie down and have a rest? It was a long drive down.’

  She looked as though she were the one in need of a rest; she had done the driving. I smiled agreement and closed my door firmly, then went over to the window to enjoy the view.

  It took Jocasta three trips to cart all of Evangeline’s luggage up into her room. Cravenly, I kept out of the way, enjoying the panorama of coastal shipping along the Channel. So timeless, so peaceful, so –

  ‘There you are, you wretched creature! Where have you been?’ The explosion of Soroya’s wrathful tirade banished all thoughts of peace. ‘You’re late! Days late! Where have you been? If Matilda doesn’t report you to your agency, I will! You have no right to treat people like this. You were engaged in good faith and you have betrayed our trust …’

  Oh, no! I hurried to the door and threw it open. As I had feared, poor Jocasta was quailing against the wall, horrified at being accosted by what seemed to be a madwoman accusing her of she knew not what.

  ‘No! No! No!’ Matilda rushed down the hallway towards us. ‘She has nothing to do with the agency. She’s with Trixie and Evangeline!’

  ‘That housekeeper still hasn’t turned up?’ I deduced, putting an arm around Jocasta’s quivering shoulders.

  ‘I’ve given up hope. What can you do?’ Matilda shrugged resignedly. ‘One makes all the arrangements. They promise they’ll take the job, they even seem enthusiastic. Then they never show up. It happens all the time. But I had such hopes for Mrs Temple; she was older than the usual run of applicants and she seemed so responsible. I thought I could depend on her. But all Australians take these domestic jobs to finance their Grand Tours and I suppose she got a chance to join her friends on an exciting trip and just took off. I wish she’d let me know, though.’

  ‘Irresponsible!’ Soroya sniffed. ‘Utterly, totally irresponsible. Typical. You must phone the agency and demand a replacement – and don’t let them charge you another fee, either!’

  ‘Soroya,’ Matilda sighed. ‘The show is opening on Monday. I don’t have time to interview staff.’

  ‘You needn’t concern yourself with that. I can easily take such domestic chores out of your – ’

  The icy flash in Matilda’s eyes stopped her dead.

  ‘Thank you, but I shall decide who presides over the housekeeping arrangements in my house!’

  ‘That’s all very well,’ Soroya ignored her resentment, ‘but what are we to do about meals? I’m getting very tired of going out to find a restaurant every time I’m hungry. And you should be, too. It would be far more restful for you to be able to have your meals and relax in the privacy of your own home. Why, there isn’t even anything for lunch today – ’

  ‘We can manage,’ Matilda said wearily.

  ‘Manage! You’ve invited a whole houseful of people to stay indefinitely – and there isn’t even anything in the fridge for lunch!’

  ‘If it’s a question of lunch – ’ Jocasta pulled away from my sheltering arm before I could restrain her – ‘perhaps I could help out. I’m rather good at making something from nothing.’

  ‘You don’t know what you’re getting into,’ I warned softly. ‘When she says there’s nothing in the fridge, she means nothing.’

  ‘There are plenty of supermarkets around and she has a car.’ Soroya bestowed a gracious smile on Jocasta. ‘So kind of you, my dear.’

  Perhaps. And perhaps there was also an ulterior motive. Dame Cecile had not surfaced yet and Jocasta was, quite rightly, afraid that Evangeline would dismiss her and send her back to London before she had a chance to discover that her prospective gold mine contained only fool’s gold.

  ‘I do appreciate it.’ Matilda smiled gently. ‘Thank you so much.’

  ‘I’ll just take a quick look at what you’ve got and make out a shopping list to supplement it,’ Jocasta said confidently, more comfortable now that she had found a role for herself here.

  ‘I’ll show you where everything is.’ Matilda led the way to the kitchen and I followed in their wake. I figured Jocasta was going to need all the moral support she could get when she saw the state of that fridge. And I was right.

  ‘Oh, my!’ She went pale as she opened the door and paler still as she scanned the contents. I noticed that there was something that seemed to have grown a beard since I had seen it the other day.
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  ‘The freezer …’ Jocasta opened the freezer compartment door and slammed it shut again quickly, but not before I had seen what appeared to be an overgrown snowball lurking in the far corner behind a screen of icicles.

  ‘There must be more than this around!’ She looked at me in disbelief.

  I shrugged. I wouldn’t have bet on it.

  ‘The larder?’ Jocasta lived in hope. She was actually asking Matilda.

  ‘I don’t think we have one.’ Matilda looked around vaguely.

  ‘What about a root cellar?’ They both looked at me blankly. So much for trying to be helpful. ‘You know,’ I elucidated, ‘where you keep potatoes, onions, carrots, beets – root vegetables.’

  ‘There’s a coal cellar,’ Matilda said. ‘But we haven’t used it since the Clean Air Act came in all those years ago and we switched to gas-fired central heating. I don’t know what’s down there now.’

  ‘It’s worth a try.’ Jocasta was not going to give up. She strode forward determinedly.

  ‘There might be the washing machine and dryer.’ Matilda did not sound entirely convinced.

  ‘The light switch doesn’t seem to work.’ Jocasta was fumbling at the wall inside the door. ‘Have you a torch?’

  ‘I have a flashlight in my bag.’ I began delving for it. Matilda was looking blank again. ‘It’s tiny, I’m afraid.’ I handed it to Jocasta apologetically. ‘It’s really just for reading theatre programmes and suchlike, but it might be better than nothing.’

  ‘It will do.’ Jocasta switched it on and began flashing it about in the darkness behind the door. ‘Oh!’ She recoiled abruptly. ‘The steps are broken! What a good thing I didn’t go rushing down there without a light!’

  ‘No one ever goes there,’ Matilda said, meaning that she didn’t.

  ‘Watch out!’ I warned. Jocasta was leaning into the dark opening again.

  ‘I’ll be careful.’ She advanced cautiously. ‘It’s just that I think I can see …’ She disappeared from sight and I gathered myself to follow.

  ‘Do you have any matches?’ I wasn’t quite silly enough to go after her without any light at all.